


Distinction between Heaven and Hell

by Trash_King



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:03:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1560803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_King/pseuds/Trash_King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Serial killer Levi finds a new obsession in the form of Pastor Erwin. <br/>This can only end badly.</p>
<p>[Warning for animal abuse/death ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distinction between Heaven and Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kisu-no-hi](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kisu-no-hi).



> Written with close reference to this amazing art piece from drawer kisu-no-hi, please do check their amazing works out.   
>  ( http://kisu-no-hi.tumblr.com/post/72253064371/everyone-will-exist-eternally-either-in-heaven-or-hell)

Right from the beginning where self-awareness began and understanding ends, Levi has always known that there was something about him that separated himself from his peers.   
He was different in every sense of the word. 

It wasn’t until he’d grown a little older did he begin to comprehend the reason why.

 

Normal children don’t run their fingers through the fur of mangy cats, pressing and poking at tender spots beneath the coat while thinking about where to make the first incision.   
Normal children don’t pretend their fingers are scalpels digging into flesh with surgical skill as they clamped down hard enough to restrict air.   
Normal children won’t derive a sense of satisfaction from the pathetic mewlings escaping the animal’s maw as they scratched and jerked in vain to escape from their vice like grip, slowly suffocating.

Normal children wouldn’t find contentment with burying their faces against the softness of a feline’s neck, nosing at the patch of skin with affection.   
Normal children wouldn’t sink their teeth in hard until blood is drawn and the animal moves no more.  
They would be sickened to feel the crunch as the tracheal cartilages gave way under pressure and cracks, they would flinch in horror at the tangy bitter taste of blood filling their mouths and staining their skin with a the colour of life.

They wouldn’t be standing there chewing and chewing, tearing through sinew and flesh alike, creating a hole that can never be fixed.  
They wouldn’t stand there and stare until the lifeless mangled animal’s corpse turned cold and stiff. Wouldn’t poke around and nudge it with their foot, like it’s a toy meant to be discarded after their owner grew tired of it. 

At least that was what they told him.  
Then again, who really has the right to decide what was ‘normal’ and what was not?

There was something wrong with him. At least that was what his parents said.   
Late at night when they think he’s asleep. In quiet solemn murmurs. His father’s strained and tight. Constricted. Like the air passages of the last critter he bit into.   
His mother’s high and reedy with something he can’t comprehend. Was that grief? Disgust? He can’t tell.

What he can tell though, is fear.  
They are afraid of him.  
He sees it in their eyes when they look at him.  
At the red that stained his hands. His being.  
The red follows him everywhere.

Sometimes he lies awake at night, staring at the sticky sticky red rivulets dripping from the gaps of his fingers, watching them devour the white linen of his sheets as they landed in fat droplets- endless.

Red follows him everywhere.  
To school. To church. To the backyard of that damned neighbour’s house. Oh he remembered the shrill screams that came when she discovered the present he’d left for her in front of her porch.

Everywhere.

There were doctors then. Quiet mild mannered people who poked and probed where their noses don’t belong. Staring at him from the wrong end of the scope, examining him much like he examines them and thinks about what it would be like to hunt bigger game. But of course he won’t.  
That’s how people get caught- by attacking those who are tied to them, however remotely.

You want to go for strangers instead. Someone you don’t know.  
It could be that little shit who stepped on your shoe this morning as you crossed the street. It could be the cashier at the store, always chewing gum obnoxiously and yakking away at her cell phone. It could be that homeless alcoholic in the streets, at the corner down the road. No one would miss him. It may even be the lady who smiled at you from opposite your seat on the bus today. She had very pretty eyes.

The bigger the game, the more exciting the fun would be.  
Wouldn’t it?

He was a teenager barely finding his legs in the world yet when they finally decided to give up on him entirely in the end.   
And so, him and his red were flown away. To a church of all places. There’s something immensely amusing about it.

They said only God can save him.

They’ll never understand that there is no God.   
And even if there is, perhaps he had turned away from them, horrified at the creations he had made. 

He doesn’t want to be saved.

They think he might hurt them really badly one day. Might see them as meat to carve up. To devour and to play with. So they decided to abandon him.

It’s fine though. He knows who he is. He knows what he is.  
And he knows, certainly, how to survive in this world.   
Besides, they were never really too far off the mark anyways.

The thrum of steady noise rushes in his head as he takes his first steps towards the church, doing his best to navigate through the crowd with suitcases in hand. The red in him comes alive, rushing in waves of heat in an instinctive reaction towards the life that resonates in and around him. Envelopes him with their tendrils. It’s alright. He’s thrown into a different environment without a crash course provided but it’s fine. He knows he can get by.

He’s barely up the steps when he spots him.  
A man with eyes the colour of an ocean untainted, the edges of lips pulling up into a smile that softened refined pictures. He looked like one of those gents Mother has in her books- posture as straight as they come, well built, tall. Almost capable of towering over Levi like a wave of devastation. 

The intonation and pitch of his voice sends shivers down his spine, the sensation much akin to pins and needles. He is untainted. A quiet place in a universe full of noise. Perhaps he was what Mother and Father meant by Normal? By whole. There was something in him, in this man that Levi doesn’t quite understand.

He is full and whole. He is Life and at the same time, larger than life itself. He is beautiful the way a hurricane is beautiful. He has something that Levi lacks. Where there is emptiness, his is filled with abundance. A fascinating sight. He is unable to look away as the man held out a hand towards him.

Levi could feel it. The red within him rushing, battering against his being, spreading again. Over his hands, drenching him from head to toe. But for the first time in his life, his mind is clear.

There is no confusion now.  
The warmth of the priest’s hand burns furnace hot as they clasped his, enveloping him. Swallowing him. And the organ in his chest sang a symphony just for the both of them. Oozing red. It spreads over to the man’s hand too. Seeking. Devouring him just as he was devoured. 

The edges of Levi’s lips curved up into a smile as a thrill settles somewhere deep within.

Yes. The pieces are all falling into place now.  
He has never been more clear than he is at this very moment.

He doesn’t want to be saved.  
He doesn’t want to be forgiven.

All he wants is-

"Father Erwin."


End file.
